Art and the philosophy of life

Edith…Thirteen

Edith looked out of her bedroom window.  Their house was in the trunk of a very large tree and she loved it.  It was multilevel and there were bridges, stairs and ropes all the way up to the top.  Her room was somewhere in the middle and contained a soft bed with pale yellow linens, a table made out of twigs and logs and a cuddly chair.  She looked down and saw a girl standing in the trees across from their front door.  Edith waved and said.  “I’ll be right down,”

She ran outside and walked over to the girl.  “My name is Edith, or Bluebell, I answer to both of them, so you can call me either one.”

“My name is Weed,” said the small girl, who immediately looked down.

“Wow!,” said Edith.

“I know, it’s the worst and lowest name there is around here.  It means unwanted, a blight, to be pulled up and thrown away,” said the girl softly.

“Are you kidding?” said Edith.  “It doesn’t mean that at all!  It means tenacious, able to survive anywhere, under any conditions, it means to take over everywhere you are, to grow and grow and spread and be the best and strongest thing in the garden!  Weed is a fabulous name, I wish my name was Weed.”

The girl stared at her, her eyes huge.  “That’s what you think?”

“That’s what I know,” said Edith.  “Weed is a name to be proud of.”

The girl started weeping softly.  “I’m human, you know.”

“I’m half and half,” said Edith, putting her arm around Weed.  “Where do you live?”

“Where do I live?”

“Yes, where do you live?”

“I’m human, I live where I can.”

“Don’t you have a home?  People who care about you?” asked Edith, in amazement.

“I’m human, so no, I don’t have any of those things,” sighed Weed.  “Human kids live where they can.  If we are working for someone, we get fed and maybe a mat to sleep upon until our job is done, then we’re on our own.”

“That’s unacceptable,” said Edith, standing up.  “Wait here,” she said.  “Do not move.”

Edith went into the kitchen and pulled on Lilly’s pale blue dress.  “Lilly there’s a girl outside who doesn’t have anywhere to live and she doesn’t really have regular meals and I want to know if she can live with us.”

Lilly bowed her head.  “She’s human, isn’t she,” she sighed.

“She is, how did you know?”

“That’s the way human children live in Fairy, Edith,” muttered Lilly.

“It’s wrong.”

“I know.”

“Now we can do something about it.  She can stay in my room and she won’t have to be alone and hungry any longer.”

“We can’t save everyone.”

“Maybe not but we can save her.”

“Bring her in.”

Edith skipped all the way back to Weed.  She grabbed her hand and dragged her into the kitchen.

“This is Weed, isn’t that a great name?” said Edith excitedly.  “Strong and tough.  Weed this is my grandmother, Lilly.”

“Hello Weed,” said Lilly, staring down at the terrified child.

Weed curtsied and refused to look up.

“Edith wanted to know if you could live with us.  In her room actually.”

Weed snuck a sideways glance at Edith and looked horrified.

“It’s not a very big room but there’s enough space for both of us,” said Edith, matter-of-factly.  We can fit another bed in there and that’s all we really need.”

Weed started shaking.

Lilly touched Weed’s shoulder.  “It’s okay Weed.  You’re welcome here.  Please be at peace and enjoy your new life.”  Lilly sent a calming spell through Weed and she stopped trembling.

“Come on,” said Edith, pulling on Weed’s arm.  I’ll show you where you’re going to stay.  THANKS LILLY,” she shouted, from the stairway.

“You’re welcome, Edith,” whispered Lilly, grinning.  “Life is never going to be the same around here and isn’t that wonderful,” she snickered.  “We might need a bigger tree.”

 

Comments on: "Edith…Thirteen" (3)

  1. A lovely story if strength and kindness.

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